Library Living and Immunology Tempers

Immunology Tempers:

Our class schedule was packed this week; they decided to cram a full week into 4 days to give us Friday off for the holiday. Nobody is actually taking the day 'off'. We're just independently studying.

We also had several small group study sessions. During one, my group was confused about some concepts and we asked the facilitator for clarification. He stood at the opposite end of the table and went off on a tangent, often stopping mid-sentence for several long moments. The group was silent, waiting for him to make his point, hoping that anything he said would be useful to our discussion. After a pause that went on, and on, and on, his eyes flared and he burst out in irritation: "WHAT!? you want me to give you the answers?!" I thought he was going to turn and twist someone's head off in rage.  He didn't even talk about the issue at hand. We were discussing an ascites problem and he was going on about hormones and birth control.  It was bizarre.

We averted our eyes and lowered our heads to our assignment, waiting until he walked away before whispering about how weird it was.  We never did come up with the right answer.

Library Living:

When I first moved to Seattle, it took 6 months for me to get around to buying furniture. I had been sleeping on an air mattress and my belongings were still in boxes though I was doing this underneath the window of an amazing view. I lived next door to Fisher Plaza (where the helicopter lands in the opening credits of Grey's Anatomy). The Space Needle and Puget Sound were RIGHT THERE. Amazing.

I had spent the previous years living a nomadic life, working seasonally in different national parks. I learned to travel lightly. 

Anyhow, my mom decided to come out to spend Christmas with me so I caved and went out to buy stuff to put my stuff on.

Over the years, I slowly began to appreciate the joy of nesting. Then, I had to move cross country (again) at a moment's notice. Circumstances required that I essentially live out of a suitcase for a couple of years. I did eventually settle into a postage stamp that was labeled a studio (seriously: 220sq ft) but I knew that I would be relocating within months for school, ergo, no nesting.

Now, I'm in a lovely studio (it's 533 sq feet- palatial!) and I  know that I'll be here for a minimum of 4 years, maybe even 8 (depending on residency placement). I've been nesting galore. I've also become addicted to websites like Apartment Therapy and Houzz- always looking for new ideas to improve my home.

Today, Apartment Therapy had a post about getting rid of books. Laugh. I've written before about my feelings on the subject. I do believe that the little critters spore when we're not looking (and eat our socks).  When I moved out here last summer, I came with, maybe, 300 volumes and the collection has not grown at the rate it had in the past, I've been busy with other things...

Nonetheless,  it has grown beyond the capacity of the built-in bookshelves. 

 On the shelves, I've kept (mostly) fiction to the left of the mantel, non fiction to the right.

Some of the mini-collections that have broken off are practical.

 

On this table are those books that I most often lend out.

Within reach while I'm at my desk, I've piled my school books on the radiator. Don't worry, I've turned the radiator off. My apartment is small, landlords are generous with the heat, so the radiator in the bathroom is sufficient to heat the place.

 

On my nightstand are the books currently on my list to read- well, except for the Viet Nam tour guide. I flip thru that when I want to escape. I'll pretend I'm back skinny-dipping in a secluded cove in Halong bay with the phosphorescent plankton. "sigh".

The rest of the groupings, I've arranged to amuse myself- like when I hung one of my Rorschach inkblots upside down. No one else ever notices but it makes me laugh.

 On my desk, I've gathered my 'rebel books'. Starting off with the Widow Clicquot- a woman who saved the champagne industry (yay- love champagne) back when women couldn't do much of anything. When I get my biography of Eleanor of Aquitaine back, it goes here. I also have a history of 'bad girls', Lisa Randall's (the awesome physicist) warped passages,  A history of castrated singers, the philosophy of John S. Mill (total feminist) and Martin Page's "How I became Stupid" to remind myself not to take life so seriously.  Oh and a new Bollywood movie- I'll watch it in stages at my desk over the next few weeks.

The rest of the 'vignettes' are basically book pairings that make me chuckle.

 

A history of the Amish: A history of the Tramp in America

Freiden's "Feminine Mystique": Michel Foucault 

 

Hitchen's Mother Teresa espose: A history of Courtesans

An American Indian History of Wounded Knee: a book of Kashmiri sayings

Am I outing myself as a complete nerd?

Well, I started this post to show the ways that I've accommodated my library growth then veered onto a tangent so I guess poking fun at my facilitator just might break some of my windows (stones, glass houses blah blah.) 

Oh: here's my bathroom addition: instead of studying last night, I made pompoms!

 

 

 

 

Book

I spent hours and hours writing my med school applications. Now that they're done, I'm at loose ends and am trying very hard not to obsess over my statuses. Watched pot and all that...

So I've spent the last few weeks maintaining that creative momentum and focusing it into a story.

I am writing an FBI/armed forces thriller. Ha ha ha ha! It's absolutely ridiculous but I'm having so much fun. I've done a lot of research and am surprised at how much I've learned.

I was never really interested in military history before. Now I have a new appreciation for what my grandfather must have experienced as a ranger in the 6th Battalion during WW2. How I wish now that I had the knowledge/interest to talk to him about his experiences before he died. I didn't even realize before the significance of his being a ranger, a member of the special forces. It's thrilling to have have a personal connection to something that is so romanticized now. I'm trying to balance the romance with reality in my story.

I've fleshed out the plot and have composed about 60 pages but the more I research, the more I have to add to my story. I know that I'll probably never finish it but the process is, so far, fantastic.

Night Shift Vacation

I've been working third shift this week. It's amazing how tranquil the small hours of the morning can be on the unit. The lights dim and, as we walk down the hall, the only sounds are those of our footfalls and the occluded IVs chirping like birds chattering in the woods.

Patient interactions are softer, quieter. They raise bleary eyes when I wake them for vitals or glucose testing and immediately nod off afterwards.

During the day, my job is hectic, a continual scramble to stay atop of the endless tasks and requests. At night, I mostly mitigate patient squabbles: she won't turn her TV off, He snores-I want a different room.. etc.

The staff, too, is more seasoned, less gossip-girl petty and fun to work with. The team in general has a perverse sense of humor- befitting a group that works the 'graveyard shift'. Last night, one of the nurses taped little devil horns and paper pitchforks to all of the office supplies (staplers, pencil sharpeners, computer mice) at the nurse's station just to annoy the morning secretary, Anna. Anna's celebrity doppelganger is Dwight from The Office. She's incredibly pedantic. This is great for dealing with time clock issues but she gets worked up over the craziest details.

The nurses on the night shift have developed an art to annoying Anna. It was so much fun to watch her huff around this morning tearing down little paper horns. After about ten minutes, she settled down to organize her desk. She then went to fax new orders to pharmacy. When she lifted up the scanner only to find more horns, she bellowed, bellowed, "Okay, who did this? Paper costs money people! No wonder we're always overbudget! This is ridiculous, Who did this?" She then glared at everyone in the nurses' station as though someone had stolen her purse. It was awesome.

If I didn't know that I would be bored within a week by the routine, I would request a permanent transfer to third shift.

Dutch Tears

The first recorded example of tempered glass (1640s), these 'Dutch Tears' awesomely illustrate some key thermodynamic and physical concepts. The self-sustaining fracture waves have been measured at 1900m/s. (That's over 5 times the speed of sound!)

Prince Rupert, Duke of Bavaria, used to give them to his courtiers as a prank.

Imagine:

The candles flicker off jewels, lace and silk, and metallic embroidery as dancers move. A chassé opens the crowd and there is the King's cousin, brilliant soldier, artist and scientist and immensely powerful. He gestures toward you. After smoothing the silk mantua that your father could ill-afford, you're escorted forward. Your father's investment is coming to fruition; you've been noticed by royalty! Unheard platitudes are given, you smile modestly and then, then!, The duke gives you a lovely graceful droplet of glass. Oh! A gift! The honor! But as he slips it into your palm, it explodes into fine powder. You stare in horror at the dust sprinkled over the new pink ribboned rosette on your slipper. The shine, the glitter and noise has been muted. You're shamed! You hear nothing but the whisper of your future. "An old Maid is now..look'd on as the most calamitous Creature in nature." [Richard Allestree] But alas! Your senses slowly return and you become aware of the grins and snickers of the men surrounding you. The Prince brushes dust off the lace at his wrist, grins mischievously and walks away.